


Unworthy

by solisaureus



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solisaureus/pseuds/solisaureus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between the resurrection of Grima and the Awakening rite. Robin's faith in himself is at an all-time low, despite the unwavering devotion of his friends and loved ones. Feat. a lil bit of light chrobin romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unworthy

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly canon compliant except for the same-sex marriage part. Feat. custom Robin with shoulder-length dark brown hair (but still named Robin lol). Robin and Chrom are married and Lucina has two fathers. Cordelia is my angel and I love her
> 
> This is my first fic published on the internet ever! I have been writing fics for various fandoms since I was like 10 (I'm 21 now lol) so this is Exciting! :D

"Has anyone seen Robin?" Chrom asked somewhat belatedly in the midst of supper. The tactician had not shown his face in camp all day, which had not escaped Chrom's notice. It had taken considerable self-control for Chrom not to actively seek him out the moment he sensed something was off; he was aware of and respected Robin's inclinations to solitude whenever something was troubling him. But it was the end of the day and Chrom could contain his curiosity no longer. He couldn't help it, he was worried about him. 

"I talked to him while gathering everyone to eat," said Cordelia from across the table. "He was taking inventory in the weapon storage tent. He said he'd come when he was hungry." 

"Really?" Chrom asked, and Cordelia shrugged. Perhaps Robin was simply busy and not troubled after all. It was true that Ylisse was simultaneously recovering from two recent wars and preparing for a third attack on Grima, and a tactician's dedication was desperately needed in these times. However, Chrom could not overlook the sinister knowledge that had just come to light. Details of Robin's past had surfaced in an ugly way, and if Chrom had learned anything about his husband and closest friend in the years since they'd met, it was that Robin rarely let on when he was upset. As he shoveled a spoonful of stew into his mouth, Chrom decided to stop by the convoy after supper to check on him. 

\--

It had taken all of Robin's focus to interact normally with Cordelia when she came by to round everyone up for the evening meal. He was concealing a blazing migraine, and purposefully took refuge in the weapon storage tent so that anyone who happened upon him would deduce that his headache was a result of the arithmetic involved in taking inventory. He had not slept much the night before, and the pain in his head had been plaguing him all day without pause. 

Thoughts of his former self and the corruption he'd seen in the mirror of his own face had sank their teeth into his mind and would not let go. For the entirety of the sun's journey through the sky since they had returned from their meeting with Grima, Robin's mind played and replayed the horrific cracking explosion of wings from what looked like his own body, the rising of the gargantuan fell dragon above the Plegian castle, the tears streaming down Lucina's normally stoic face as she watched her broken future unfold all over again. Robin was deeply entrenched in potential scenarios: what if he had not adequately controlled the burst of lightning he'd nearly impaled Chrom with? What if he had succumbed to terror and not thought to retrieve the fire emblem while the walls of the palace crumbled around him? He was so wrapped up in his catastrophic imagination that he didn't even look up from the inventory sheet when Cordelia walked into the tent announcing supper. 

Cordelia saw through his casual act immediately. She promptly dropped her soldier persona upon entering the tent and put her hands on Robin's shoulders when she saw his pallid, sweaty face. 

"Forgive my frankness, Robin, but you look like hell," she said, her gentle tone mixed with worry. 

"I am just...stressed," said Robin plainly, which was a small truth of a larger struggle. 

"We are all stressed. You are suffering," Cordelia said. "What is wrong, friend?" 

Robin looked sideways at her with bleary eyes. He'd seen Cordelia in a similar state before, coiled up on herself and desperately wiping tears away as traumatic memories forced them forth. She trusted Robin with her pain, her weakness, and their friendship had been forged a tier stronger for it. 

Robin truly felt he could confide in Cordelia, but he had not the energy to do so. He shook his head weakly. "Thank you, but I'm fine, Cordelia. Is it supper time?" 

Cordelia squinted for a moment, and then bowed her head in acceptance. "Yes, it is," she said, looking up. "Please come and eat with the rest of the Shepherds if you can. I do believe that some food in your belly and good company would relieve some of your stress, if only for a little bit." 

Robin gave her a brief but genuine smile. "My thanks, friend. I'll head over when I'm feeling hungry." 

The pegasus knight released Robin's shoulders and gave him a lingering look before heading out to finish her rounds. When she was gone, Robin sighed and slid to the ground against a stack of crates, his forehead pressed against his knees. 

He was still wound in that position when Chrom found him after supper. 

\--

Chrom opened the canvas flap to the weapon storage tent, and the dim torchlight from outside outlined Robin's curled form on the ground. The prince's heart fell at this sight, and slowly approached his husband to sit next to him and wind his sleeveless arm around his narrow shoulders. Robin grunted softly as Chrom gently positioned the tactician's head against his shoulder and weaved his fingers through Robin's smooth, dark hair. 

"Not hungry?" Chrom said after a quiet moment. 

Robin sighed. "I doubt I could keep anything down with the headache I've got tonight." 

Chrom hummed sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my love. I hate to see you in such pain. I believe Libra is still up if you want to fetch him for healing." 

Robin shook his head. "Don't bother him, it'll pass" he said, and for a few minutes the two sat together in relative peace. 

Then Chrom ventured, "Something tells me that your physical ailment is not the only plague upon you tonight." 

Robin turned and buried his face in Chrom's shoulder. "What makes you say such a thing?" He mumbled against his arm, maintaining his sarcastic attitude even at the nadir of his emotional wellbeing. 

Chrom gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Call it hunch," he said, and sighed. "I just know that a lot of staggering things happened yesterday, and I would be shocked if you were upset by none of it. Is there anything you want to talk about?" 

Robin tilted his head and looked up at the prince. Chrom, Cordelia, and so many others around him genuinely cared about him, and all that Robin felt was unworthy. Robin was not a good man, this he knew for certain now. It felt wrong, the vessel of Grima pressed directly against the Brand of Naga. Robin sat up and extracted himself from Chrom's hold. Chrom watched him quizzically; it was unlike Robin to shun his comforting motions. 

"Chrom," Robin began as he tucked a lock of his hair back, his low voice barely audible. "You saw the same thing that I saw. You know what I now know. We met the man that I was before you found me, and he is evil. Robin is a traitor, he quite literally stabbed you in the back, he destroyed our daughter's life, he brought on a future so catastrophic it is hardly imaginable. This is who I surely would've become if he himself hadn't destroyed my memory all that time ago. We can't just ignore this knowledge." 

Chrom shook his head. "The one that I met was Grima, in a body that looked like Robin's. But whoever it was, it was not you. You fought and slayed the sorcerer king who sought to control you, you saved and then spared my life, and then you thought to recover the fire emblem when everyone else was fleeing for their lives. That courageous, brilliant, selfless person is the Robin I know. The one from Lucina's future is not like that. You challenged and changed your fate, and I am certain our daughter is proud of you. I know I am."

Robin could not meet Chrom's eyes. "Lucina tried to kill me herself. Frederick was right to condemn me when you first found me. I am Grimleal, there is nothing holy about me. You cannot trust me."

"Frederick has revised his opinion of you a thousand times over. If he could go back and slap his former self for misjudging you, he would. And Lucina never wanted to hurt you. Do you remember how grateful she was when she realized she didn't have to raise her sword against her own father? She could not have done it even if she was compelled to because she knows that you represent no threat to us, and she loves you." 

"Robin is a traitor!" Robin said again, raising his voice a little. "He murdered you and Lucina knows it! I'll bet that he attacked me in the Ylissean countryside in the first place so that you would find me and take me in. He was counting on my getting close to you and being in a position to betray you."

"But you didn't betray me!" Chrom said, throwing his hands in the air. "You had the perfect chance to kill me in Plegia, and yet I am still here. Whether you like it or not, I will always trust you with my life, Robin." 

Robin groaned and turned away, exasperated by Chrom's persistent faith. He could not find anything to say that would displace his unshakable loyalty in favor of seeing sense. 

After a moment of tense silence, Chrom spoke again, his voice tender and unassuming this time. "You are not Grima, and Grima is not you. And if I am honest, I don't believe that the Robin of Lucina's time willingly chose to host the fell dragon. You felt for yourself how Validar can control his son, and that Robin could not have known how to defend himself against it like you did. There could still be a good man trapped inside that monster." 

Robin looked up at the prince, surprised at this conclusion. Leave it to Chrom to search for the good even in someone who is the literally the picture of evil. He sighed. "Even if there is, it is too late for him. His fate is sealed."

"Maybe so," Chrom said, frowning. "But it is not the case for you. Robin, I will do everything in my considerable power to protect you. After everything you have done for me, my people, and the world we all live in, you deserve to be happy and safe." 

Robin felt a teardrop fall from his eye and onto the dirt ground. He could not believe that he merited all this kindness, and he folded in on himself again as he understood that Chrom would never turn his back on him even in the face of blatant impending betrayal. 

At the sight of Robin's tears, Chrom leaned toward him and pressed his lips to his forehead. Robin reached out and touched his hand, and felt strong arms wrap him up and pull him to Chrom's chest. He rested his left hand on Chrom's Brand, stroking his shoulder thoughtfully as he leaned into the steady rhythm of the prince's breathing. Chrom was stubborn and sometimes foolish, but Robin could not help but love him. Silent tears fell down his face as Chrom's heart beat against his cheek, and Robin allowed himself to be comforted for a moment by his husband. 

Chrom pressed a kiss into Robin's hair. "It's getting late," he said softly. "And I can tell that you need your rest."

Robin turned his face up and returned a small kiss to Chrom's jaw. "Yes, I should try to sleep," he hummed.

"Alright then," Chrom said with a glint in his eye. He moved to a squat position and lifted Robin as he stood, carrying the small man in his arms toward their shared bedroom. Robin grunted in a brief initial protest, but quickly conceded to the indignity of being carried off to bed. As he closed his eyes, he drifted off to the thought that for better or worse, whatever morning lay in wait, he would not face it alone.


End file.
